The Black Chasm
by Marie Carlson
Summary: Moria. The splendor of the dwarves. It had once been a great underground city, filled with the majesty of Middle Earth’s delving race. Where Tolkien leaves off, our imagination takes flight. What was the fate of those who couldn't get out?
1. Moria

**A/N: On re-reading _The Fellowship of the Ring_, I was fascinated by Moria. It seems to be shrouded in mystery and tragedy but not much is told of what became of the third and final expedition, led by Balin, to reclaim the dwarves' greatest triumph and also greatest failing. All that is told of it (as far as I have researched and correct me if I'm wrong) is what Gandalf reads of the Book of Mazarbul, a record of the happenings of the colony, which only lasted five years. This story is an expansion of the last year, 2994, seen from the eyes of two people who were trapped in and "could not get out".**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or anything by Tolkien. However, I have taken the liberty of adding more to the account of Moria, by Ori, than was mentioned in the book. Remember! This is _fiction_!**

**Copyright 2006 © Marie Carlson.**

_Ori, December 2994

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Khazad-dûm. The greatest achievement of the dwarves. It was our beauty. It was our power. It was our downfall. The last time the dwarves laid eyes upon it, it had been ravaged by war and Orcs. Our people fought and were killed there in revenge of the slaughtering of King Thror by Azog, the goblin. But we did not return to its halls then. We left, knowing that it would be many years before we could come again, when the world had changed.

The world has changed. But not toward good. Four years ago we did return, led by Balin, Lord of Moria. We drove back the orcs, took the Twenty-first Hall as our main dwelling, and prepared to renew the riches of the mines of our forefathers. But the darkness of Moria, the Black Chasm, is not so easily defeated.

As I get ready to record my entry in the Book of Mazarbul, I realize it may be the last thing I do. I am Ori, friend of Balin, Lord of Moria, and the doom of the last dwarves here in Khazad-dûm is at hand.

_Ori, 6 months earlier

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I have been through many hardships in my life: being homeless, traveling through Mirkwood and being captured by those good-for-nothing Elves, and having to fight in a war against the dragon, Smaug the Golden. But never have I had to deal with the oppressiveness of this place.

It's not that bad.. For those first few years, after we got rid of the orc scum still around, it was a good start. There was light again in Moria and we were eager to make up for the time lost while evil lived here. We cleaned up things a bit and set to work, exploring different places and seeing the splendor of the City of Dwarrowdelf, looking into a future when those halls would once again be bright with the light of forges and crystal lamps. There would be music and laughing and eating, just as there had been when Durin I was King. And for a while that dream seemed, in time, within reach.

And here we are. We have progressed, I will say that. We've only lost one, Flói, who fell in the beginning defeating the greatest of the orcs. We found gold not long before Balin was officially declared as Lord of Moria. But gold is not what we sought. Not really. It is true-silver, _mithril_, that we wanted. And we found it! The lost veins of the beautiful metal were rediscovered and our fortunes seemed to have improved. Óin went to look for the upper armories, in the Third Deep, and we ventured as far as the Hollin Gate, in the west, although for the most part I, myself, would rather not go too far past what we inhabit, especially not in the downwards direction. There are dark things in the far recesses of Moria and I would rather not encounter them.

And although all that we have done so far seems to be exactly what we dreamt about, exactly what we came for, there's some doubt in my mind. Of course, everything is well forged and the work is splendid, but this is not the old Khazad-dûm. There are still corners in which lurk dark things. We dare not go too deep for fear of finding more orcs (which we still find and battle with, although they are few so far and easily killed or scared off) or worse, Durin's Bane. But I fear we will become too greedy. For that was the downfall in the first place. The greed of the Dwarves.

_A visitor at Moria's Western Gate

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From the moment I laid eyes on the place, I knew it wasn't the Last Homely House, to say the least. But I had to stop and this seemed like the only place that would provide some shelter, although whether it was safe or not was a question yet unanswered. The two massive holly trees by the doorway seemed slightly foreboding, although I assume they were probably very beautiful in their time. The doors were also a bit intimidating, with only one door actually open. They looked hewn out of the very side of the mountain and I pondered the reasons why the right door was closed. And the fact that it was dark inside.

Quickly crossing the stream that ran right near the gates, I cautiously approached the place. No doubt the dwarves built it. But the last I'd heard they were all near the Lonely Mountain, ever since that dragon was killed. They hadn't been this far Southwest in a long while. Had they?

I had mastered the ability to be quiet when I needed to. I have passed through many dark lands and remained undetected. But apparently someone was waiting for me. Before I had gone two steps through the opening on the left, I had an axe uncomfortably near my stomach and ready to chop me to bits. Rather abrupt, I must say. I hadn't expected someone to be sitting watch. Although, from the look on his face, he hadn't expected to be sitting watch either. He hadn't been sitting watch at all.

"What business do you have with the dwarves, stranger?" he growled, after he and I had both regained our composure.

"None at all," I replied coolly. My eyes were beginning to adjust to the blackness, with help from the small torch the dwarf had nearby. We seemed to be near a stairway, but where it led I did not know.

My companion looked me up and down, noting the fact that I was a good two and half feet taller than him and I had a sword strapped at my waist. He also didn't miss my rather neglected appearance.

"What are you? Some kind of pillager?" He asked me, glaring all the while. "You might as well give up the idea. There're dwarves in Moria again and you'd better believe we'll defend it to the death!"

I blinked. Moria? That's where I was? "Just a minute. You're saying that these are the Mines of Moria? That's what this place is?" There was no way I wanted to be within twenty miles of the place, let alone go inside and try to steal something. It was crawling with orcs, among other things.

My little friend now looked indignant. "This is Khazad-dûm. This _place_ displays some of the dwarves' greatest workmanship!"

I realized that it was important not to offend a dwarf, especially in regards to his craft. I tried to back out of the darkness and return to my original spot near the stream, although even on the outside the place made me none too comfortable. However, the dwarf didn't seem to want me to leave until I had explained myself. So I did.

"I am but a traveler seeking shelter. I would never even think of taking something that isn't mine." I looked him straight in the eyes, hoping he'd believe me. It was the truth. In all honesty, I was willing just to clear things up and go, without food or sleep. I didn't like the smell of the place. There wasn't any wind nearby and something lingered. Not to mention the stories I'd heard.

He studied me and then lowered his axe, although he gave me a wary look. "You may seek food and shelter, as you say, but I do not know for sure. We will take it up with Balin."

For some reason I thought it would just be better if I listened to him. Nonetheless, this Balin fellow didn't sound too welcoming. I started to climb the stairs, with my captor behind me, wondering at the speed in which things change. Just five minutes ago I had been dead tired, hungry, and thinking of all the reasons why I hadn't settled down years ago in a place like Bree. Things were getting too dark for me. And I wasn't as young as I used to be. But now I was trudging up a never-ending stairway with a strange dwarf's axe on my back and a sense that this place wasn't safe, even with its original inhabitants' return.

**A/N: I know I've posted a lot today, what with my account switch and all. But I'm eager to get started on this story and get everything set up on my brand new account. It's an exciting thing to have your own pen name next to the title on the fan fiction page, instead of the pen name of the person whose account you're using. Anyway, I would appreciate reviews, if you've got 'em. **


	2. Balin

**A/N: I would like to apologize to the few people who have read this first chapter, since I haven't updated in a few months. Been really busy on my end. Hopefully I'll get things up and running again. Enjoy this next chapter!**

_Ori_

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_­­­­­­­­­­­­_I hadn't expected to find myself sniffing around the Hollin Gate, let alone encounter a stranger trying to enter our home. But here I was, trailing behind a very grungy looking man with my axe prodding him on, wondering how on earth I had ended up with the task of holding prisoners. I wasn't used to being so gruff but then he seemed rather dubious, not to mention insulting, concerning the craftsmanship and splendor of Khazad-dûm. Balin would know what to do with him.

I looked about me as we climbed the stairs, surveying the slightly tumbled-down appearance of our western gate. As much as I disliked venturing too far from the Twenty-first Hall, we needed to clean this place up. I had made sure to close the doors before we left but these days things had the talent of creeping inside the mines undetected and causing hassles. The sooner we secured more of the mines, the better.

Studying the man in front of me, I noticed that his shoulders slumped like those of a man who had been walking for ages with little comfort and rest. Maybe he _was_ simply weary and in need of shelter. Maybe he _didn't_ realize he was entering Moria, but merely sought a place to stay. Nonetheless, Balin would need to see him and even if he were harmless, it would show that we needed to strengthen our watch of the west gate.

"Do you have a name, Master Dwarf?"

I started at the sound of the man's voice. I had expected him to remain silent and was surprised when my reverie was interrupted.

"Not that it's any business of the likes of _you_, I am called Ori." I sniffed, trying to seem a lot rougher than I really felt.

I could almost see him rolling his eyes in response to this, although he said nothing for several moments. "I am Leor," he finally stated, his chin tilting up a little bit. "At your service."

No doubt he had a smirk on his face when adding that last tidbit. If I had any gall I'd give him a hard shove with my axe and let him fall flat on his face. However, I merely ignored it. I'd faced far worse things than a man making fun the Dwarves' polite manners and offering of services.

With a sigh, I continued my trudging up the stone steps, thinking back on times when this place would've been glowing with torches and filled with music. Alas, the days have gone by and the edges of Moria were as weary, dark, and potentially dangerous as the traveler in front of me.

_Leor

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Touchy little fellow, wasn't he? I had to smile at his tough attitude towards me, especially when I heard him flinch at my comments. Of course, I probably shouldn't have said anything at all since he was the one with the axe and had confiscated my sword. It looked a little big for him but I had not doubt that he could wield it just as well as I could. Well, almost as well.

My original assumptions as to the condition of Moria had been rather close to the mark. The room that we first entered was dusty and dark, with the exception of the light from Ori's torch. I shivered at the thought of what could be lurking around in the shadows and looking over the edge of the stairs we were ascending made my head spin. It was just dark down there and I could only imagine what was down there. I had heard stories of Durin's Bane and, while vague, they told enough for me to want to never set foot in the place. And yet here I was, accompanied by Ori the dwarf, traipsing along toward whatever fate awaited me in the hands of this Balin character.

So, the dwarves had returned to "Khazad-dûm" at last. I dimly wondered how many there were and why it seemed that Ori didn't want conversation during our journey. Though there was a distant sound of hammers, it still seemed too quiet for so vast a place. There couldn't be as many as there once were but apparently there were enough to drive out the orcs. Had they struck gold? Or better?

"How much farther?" I asked, looking about me as it seemed to get a little lighter. There torches here and there now and the gloom seemed less oppressive.

Ori grunted, obviously not happy I had spoken again. "Not much."

He clearly wasn't jesting as we were soon in a hall occupied by a large group of dwarves. They were working on various projects although the thing that most caught my attention was something roasting over a fire. The smell was intoxicating and I could feel my stomach growl as the aroma reached my nose. I didn't care if it was rat meat, it certainly smelled good and I'd eat it if they let me. However, this didn't seem like part of their immediate plans.

"Ori! Who is this that you bring into our halls?" a deep voice called out. Its owner was broad-chested and had a long, full beard that was tucked into a splendid belt of silver. It was no doubt Balin.

Ori bowed to this dwarf and motioned to me. "This man is Leor. I found him near Hollin Gate. He claims to only be in search of food and shelter."

A number of their company turned to look at me and Balin motioned for Ori to join him. I was left at the entrance, now guarded by a rather hairy dwarf with a bushy grey beard and a pick axe in his hand. He watched me warily and I nodded to him, hoping to make a good impression. That pick axe looked sharp.

After a brief conference between Balin, Ori, and various other dwarves, their leader motioned the shaggy looking fellow toward him. Obviously I followed until I was standing right in front of their little council. Balin looked me up and down, taking note of my appearance which, I'm sure, was rather bedraggled. He stroked his beard absently and then motioned for someone to bring us a drink. He seated himself in a large chair and gestured for me to do the same. I was very tired and while the seat didn't look like it was going to be as soft as a feather pillow, it was certainly better than standing up. I did as he said.

"We are cautious folk, Master Leor. We have driven out the majority of the orcs and have begun mining again, as you no doubt saw. Because of this, we are very watchful of strangers who may very well be thieves." He looked at me sternly and I could only meet his gaze.

"A thief I am not," I replied, hoping to seem civil. I'm sure it was hard to take me seriously but I was being totally honest. I had done some bad things in my life but stealing wasn't one of them. I would not stoop to that level.

"For your sake, I hope not," was the only response he gave.

With that, Balin rose and guided me towards a table that was being laid. It must have been dinner time and from the looks of it, it was to be grand dinner at that. For me it was more like a feast. I knew for sure now that I was famished and I would very well eat poisoned food if it meant no longer living on an empty stomach.

"You may eat with us tonight, Master Leor, but I must warn you, you will be under watchful eyes, not to mention close guard this evening. We will decide your fate tonight. I hope very deeply you are not a thief, or worse." Then he smiled kindly. "But for now, eat."

That was on command I would not refuse.

**A/N: Well, that's it for now. For some reason I pictured Moria as still being a dark place, even after they'd been there for four and a half years. Maybe that's just me but I don't think a company of their size could've explored all corners of the mines and driven out all evil so I would imagine there were places still dark and dangerous. Let me know what you think of it so far. I'm a little rusty so enlighten me. Thanks!**


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